


The Thickness of Blood

by thevalesofanduin



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, Family Feels, Gen, Jim and his mom try, They really do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 11:20:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11274384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thevalesofanduin/pseuds/thevalesofanduin
Summary: You can’t shake hands with a clenched fist, even when it’s your mother.





	The Thickness of Blood

Jim has always considered his relationship with his mother difficult.

Strained.

Whether that's because she sees George every time she looks at him or because he blames her for leaving him to do her job is not quite determined.

Fact remains that Jim spent the majority of his childhood without both his mother and a biological father present. Instead, his brother and him were left to be raised by a stepfather who had hardly qualified for the job.

So when they're docked at Yorktown for a week for some much needed repairs and shore leave, he doesn't let his mother know even though Jim knows she's around.

He sleeps in nearly every morning and then, when he wakes up, he reads – cup of hot coffee on the bedside table and plate of half-eaten pancakes at his feet. Cross-legged, legs stretched in front of him, lying on his belly, back against the wall, it doesn’t quite matter. He’s  _all over_  the bed as he devours page after page of honest-to-God  _paper_  books. Classics, adventure-flicks,  _romance_ -flicks, it’s books and he’s  _delighted_.

He goes to the bar most nights, a local place with a table big enough to fit at least a dozen people and a repertoire of booze that can keep up with Scotty, Leonard and Pavel. He’s not out to get drunk, not out to get laid. Because it’s laughter, jokes, good conversations and Iowa might never truly have been home, but this certainly feels like it is.

He plays chess with Spock, he goes to the gym with Pavel, he is out whole afternoons with Bones just wandering around Yorktown, exploring. And when they find something that resembles a market they buy bags full of fresh fruits and Bones bakes cobblers for  _everyone_  and they gobble it up as if they haven’t eaten in  _days_  while Bones looks proud as a peacock.

He goes shopping with Nyota, Hikaru and Pavel one afternoon.

Nyota knows all the best stores, Hikaru’s taste is eclectic to say the least and Jim shouldn’t be as surprised as he is when Pavel _rocks_ a pair of skinnies better than anyone he’s ever seen.

It’s a lot more fun than he’d expected it to be but then, when he’s halfway through a rack of jeans, he catches sight of her.

His eyes glance outside only for a moment and that’s when he sees it. The familiar dirty-blonde curls now with streaks of grey pulled up into a bun, her uniform pristine and there might be more wrinkles than when he saw her the last time but he’ll never forget that face. The button nose, the laughter in her eyes as she talks on her communicator.

Something constricts in his chest, pulls his heart tight and pushes the breath out of his lungs in a soft gasp.

It’s like he’s a little boy all of a sudden, wanting to both run up to his mother and hug her while at the same time wanting to hide.

“Jim?” Nyota asks, walking up to him with a few clothes in her arms and a small frown on her face.

Jim blinks, sees his mother turning her head slightly towards the store and he  _panics_. “I’ll try this one on,” he says, grabs the first pair of jeans he can get his hands on and turns to rush towards the changing rooms.

_Coward_ , he tells himself yet he can’t deny the relief that washes over him when the changing-room door closes behind him.

_Coward_

 

\---

 

Turns out that it’s not just his mother Jim should’ve worried about.

Because a few days later when they’re out having burgers in a hole-in-the-wall place with beers on the table and ketchup on their fingers, Leonard says: “Saw your mom yesterday.”

Jim’s got his teeth in his burger already but at the mention of his mother he freezes momentarily. He finishes off his bite, swallows it even though it feels like he has to force it through his throat and when he glances at Leonard his face has lost half of its color. “Oh?”

“Was asking how you were. Says she hasn’t seen you in a while.” Leonard waves his burger in the air in a nonchalant movement but his voice is soft and gentle, the corners of his lips slightly tense.

But Jim hardly notices. Can only hear the words repeating in his mind.

The same words he’d received in a message from her two months ago which he’d deliberately forgotten about.

_Haven’t seen you in a while_.

“Yea,” he mumbles and puts his burger down onto the table. He’s not so hungry anymore.

“Mentioned you should do lunch sometime.” Leonard continues.

Jim’s eyes snap to Leonard, widening. “What?”

He doesn’t like where this is going.

Doesn’t like the dark, ugly feeling of betrayal curling in his gut because  _she_  had gone behind his back and  _Leonard_ had let her.

“Said she’d make reservations for tomorrow at that fancy place near HQ.”

Jim lets out a shuddering breath, turning his eyes away from Leonard and down to the table.

He’s meeting with his mom tomorrow.

Because he knows now that the date is set that he’ll go. _And she knows it too_.

It’s what’s drawn them to one another even in the moments when they probably didn’t want anything to do with each other.

When Jim was eleven and had driven his step-father’s red Corvette off a cliff.

When Jim was seventeen and he’d taken the PX70 from the shed, packed a bag and disappeared for over a month.

When Jim was twenty-two and had gotten so drunk the week before his birthday he’d called his mother and accused her of not loving him because of _his fucking father_.

He hated her then, in those moments and he’s certain that at some points she must have hated him a little bit as well.

But she is still his mother, he still her son and despite it all, despite how strained their relationship is, he still has a _need_ to see her.

And perhaps, he thinks, perhaps Leonard’s seen that and made a decision for Jim knowing Jim wouldn’t have taken it by himself.

He still feels like he’s just been thrown into the deep-end without floaties, though.

But as always, it’s as though Leonard can read his mind.

As if he sees all of Jim’s thoughts on his face.

For when he says “I told her to make it a table for three, Jim,” his eyes are steady and calming as they rest on Jim. His voice full of promise. Of  _I’ll be there for you_  and  _I’ll be your support_.

Jim’s shoulders slump, tension seeping out of his body and he sighs in relief. “Okay,” he mumbles, grateful and wondering not for the first time what he has ever done to deserve a friend like Leonard.

_Family_ like Leonard.

Leonard bumps his shoulder against Jim’s. “She said she’s paying,” he jokes, tries to lighten the mood.

Jim’s answering laugh is choked but they both pretend it isn’t.

 

\---

 

It's an awkward affair.

It starts the moment Leonard and Jim walk into the restaurant.

Jim can feel everyone’s eyes on him and he just knows that his mother has already arrived. She’s seated at a table in the corner and despite its somewhat private position it still feels as if the whole clientele is trying to listen what mother and son have to discuss over lunch.

It doesn’t get better once the three of them are actually seated at the table.

Jim’s the textbook example of forced politeness, clipped answers and a general disinterest which he dresses up with a charming smile.

Winona sits with tense shoulders, tries too hard and where Jim doesn’t say enough she says too much despite the obviously painful fact she hardly knows what’s going on in his life.

Leonard, meanwhile, bears witness to the disaster that is the mother-son meeting and plays mediator. He answers Winona for Jim, asks her questions he knows Jim won’t ask while at the same time pushing and prodding at Jim to join the conversation.

Jim appreciates it, in a way. Yet there are moments when he wants to tell his mother to shut up, tell Leonard to _shut up._ Because every time when he tries to put himself into the conversation, his mother says something to show she doesn’t actually know him at all which is countered by Leonard’s words that are always true and kind and caring.

Family, he finds himself thinking, is a strange concept.

Because looking at these two he can’t help but feel it’s the wrong one he is supposed to call _home_.

 

When they part ways, Winona looks at Jim sadly. "I'm trying, Jim." She says as she strokes a hand down Jim's cheek, fingers lingering in a heartbroken way against her son's skin.

Jim shrugs, turns his face aside - effectively both pushing away and rejecting his mother's touch – while saying: "Me too."

 

\---

 

They’re walking back to the hotel they’re staying at during their leave and Jim’s already got his mind in the gym.

Treadmill, boxing, he doesn’t quite care as long as it’s _something_ and he can keep his mind occupied.

Where Leonard’s mind is at, he doesn’t know but from the dark frown it doesn’t look like it’s in the best of places.

“Spit it out.” Jim says, hands shoved in his pockets and eyebrow raised at Leonard.

Leonard huffs, shaking his head. “You don’t want to hear it, Jim.”

Ah, Jim thinks, so it’s about mom.

He probably doesn’t want to hear it.

But this is Leonard and Jim knows that even if he doesn’t want to hear it, he probably needs to.

Because if there is one person that is always looking out for Jim’s best interest, it’s Leonard.

So Jim rolls his eyes and says: “You look like you’re gonna get stuck in that frown, Bones. Spit it out.”

Leonard looks at Jim for a few moments then before saying: "You said you were trying.”

Jim frowns. “I was.”

Leonard huffs. “I don't know what that was, Jim, but it wasn't trying."

"And what does that mean?" Jim asks, eyebrow raised.

He went to the lunch, talked with his mother and really if that isn’t trying then he must have always misunderstood the word.

He doesn’t expect the humorless laugh that passes Leonard's lips. "I went through a divorce, Jim. Trust me, I know the difference between wanting to try and pretending to try.”

Jim glares at Leonard. “I wasn’t pretending.” He shakes his head and sighs in frustration. “But it’s obvious she doesn’t know anything about me so really, who is the one that’s pretending?” He asks, words and voice bitter.

“Jim,” Leonard starts.

“You’re right, Bones.” Jim cuts in before Leonard can continue, though. He’s stuck his hands in his pockets again and his eyes are fixed in front of him rather than at his friend. “I don’t want to hear it.”

Leonard sighs.

For a moment Jim thinks he’ll ignore the words and speak his mind anyway.

But then there’s an arm around Jim’s shoulder, pulling him against Leonard’s side and neither of them speak as they keep walking towards the hotel.

 

\---

 

Shore leave is over and it’s back to business.

Long days, short nights and before Jim knows it he’s buried in paperwork.

He doesn’t think about his mother very often because he hardly has the time. He also tries to push thoughts about her away because after that meeting thinking of her he only feels angry, disappointed, bitter.

_She doesn’t know anything about me_.

It’s when he receives a _stay safe_ from his mother a week after they’ve set off that he realizes that perhaps the reason why she doesn’t know anything about him is because _he_ doesn’t tell her.

He sits at his desk and stares at his PADD, at the message signed _love, mom_

_I’m trying, Jim_

He swallows but the lump that’s settled in his throat makes it feel hard.

Shit, he thinks, Bones was right.

Because she’s been trying. She’s been reaching out, asking, trying to start conversations that he has deflected every single time.

How can he expect her to know him when he never truly speaks to her? How can she know he’s not dating anyone because being a Captain he feels he’s too busy, when all he answers to that question is _no, I’m not_. How can she know he loves being Captain, loves his crew, so much that he declined the Vice Admiral promotion when all he does is shrug when she asks about it.

How can she know?

He considers getting himself a drink.

But then he glances at the PADD again, sees the words _love, mom_ and decides that perhaps it’s time for him to truly start trying.

He takes his PADD, opens his contacts and calls his mother.

Her face appears on-screen and she looks tired, hair loose and Jim realizes it must be evening for her. “Jim?” She asks and there is panic in that one word.

It stings a bit, Jim thinks, knowing that she doesn’t expect him to call her in anything other than an emergency.

He swallows it down, though. Because he only has himself to blame for that. He sees that now.

He’ll fix it.

“Hi mom…” he smiles and then, with hope in his voice and his heart, says: “I was wondering if maybe you have some time to talk."

The smile on his mother’s face is relieved, almost heartbreaking in its affection and inside Jim’s chest, something restless finally settles.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [Tumblr](http://thevalesofanduin.tumblr.com/) <3


End file.
